


Working Memories

by neatnik



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, F/F, Fluff, Romance, possibly smut, swanqueen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 15:14:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15051986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neatnik/pseuds/neatnik
Summary: Emma is happy in New York.  She thinks.  Until a Captain Hook cosplayer shows up on her front door, insisting that she come home.  Now she has people she doesn't know texting her, and they won't stop talking about this Storybrooke place. What's a girl to do?  Canon divergence after Season Three, Episode 11.





	Working Memories

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, fandom. This is my first foray into writing the world of fanfiction. I started reading Xena fanfiction in 1998 (so, I totally just dated myself) and haven't stopped since. I've hopped from universe to universe and have finally ended up here with you lovely people in the Once universe - or some version of it, anyhow. Be gentle with me. It's my first time. ;)

Emma turned the corner quickly, skirting the homeless guy that was always camped out on the corner.

“Hey! Swan! Wait up!”

Stressed was a little strong of a word for what she was. Maybe frustrated? Irritated? Ok, so bordering on angry. She didn’t know who the hell the weirdo in the stupid-ass leather jacket ala Captain Hook cosplay was, but he seriously needed to leave her alone.

“Swan!” 

She’d seen him twice now: once when she threw him out of her apartment after he tried to kiss her (strongly unadvised), and again hanging out in the lobby when she came down to check the mail. She realized, though, that she was tired of skirting the issue. She had a son and a life, and for God’s sake, a gun. What was he going to do?

She wheeled on him. “Ok, buddy – what?! What is your damn problem? I swear – if you don’t leave me alone, I’m going to call the police.” Phone in her hand, she extended it like it was a weapon of some kind. Cause the gun, yeah, that was locked in the safe in her apartment. So…

Hook slid to a stop in front of her, hands – well, hand and hook – on his knees, bent over, trying to catch his breath. 

“Swan….Swan….”

Emma pocketed her phone when she realized all she really needed to do was outrun him. My God, how could someone be this out of shape?

“Swan…” He held up a small bottle. Emma eyed it suspiciously. 

“Yes? What is that? A love potion? Roofie? You expect me to take something a total cosplaying stranger just gives to me?” She rolled her eyes.

“Ok – so I only really understand about half of what you just said.” The Hook cosplayer looked confused. “You need to drink this, Swan. It will explain everything.”

“Oh, I’m sure it will.” If she rolled her eyes any harder, she was pretty sure they were going to get stuck in the back of her head.

“Emma! You have to help your family. They’re in trouble.”

Emma laughed harshly. “My family? Right. So long, loser. If I see you again, I _will_ call the police. That’s a promise. “

Hook’s hand shot out – she was a little impressed actually at how fast that happened and now a little unsure – and he gripped her upper arm, shaking her slightly as he stepped into her space. “Emma. They need you. Your mom, your dad…”

Emma’s eyes were blank, but a little bigger now. His grip was strong.

“Regina needs you.” Hook thought maybe that would seal the deal. 

“Look, Mr. –“

“Killian.”

Her eyebrow rose on one side in spite of the sour taste of fear in her mouth. She just couldn’t help the snark. “Killian? Really? What a stup- Anyway, Killian, first of all, **let go of my fucking arm** ,” – and here Emma ripped her arm away – “and second of all, who? I don’t have a mom and dad, and I don’t know a Regina. But I’ll tell you again.” She lowered her voice to its deepest register, squared her shoulders as she’d had to do her whole life when standing her ground, chin up, eyes fierce. “Leave me the hell alone.” At that, she turned on her heels and stalked away. She could feel the nervous sweat running down her back. She hoped her bluff worked.

Hook stared after her. “Emma. You’ve got to come home.” He sighed deeply and started walking.

_Later that evening_

Emma was vegging on the couch watching Forensic Files. Sometimes she got some good ideas from watching crime shows, so she called it research, wrote the cable costs off on her taxes as a business expense, and enjoyed her “working dinner” of beer and pizza. Henry was upstairs with a neighbor kid – Sam or something. He’d spent the last several months next door with a guy named Elijah. She’d gotten to know his mom – she was cute – but they had moved away just last week so Sam was the new kid on the block. Emma had been hoping Hen would stay in with her tonight. That kook _Killian_ was out there somewhere and she wasn’t positive he wouldn’t try to talk to Henry next. He had mentioned him the day he accosted her at the door, so he knew about him. Emma just couldn’t understand how he knew their names and what his angle was. She really didn’t want to talk to Henry about it because she didn’t want to alarm him. She spent too many years living in fear growing up. She didn’t want that for Henry. She sighed deeply. She would have to tell him. 

Emma stood, stretching, glancing at the clock, and grabbed her phone to text Henry and tell him that it’s 9 p.m. and a school night – time to come home. She noticed, though, that she had a text message that she hadn’t heard come in. “Damn piece of shit. I have _got_ to get an upgrade.” Emma sighed deeply and opened the message. A message from a number that was not in her contacts.

_**207-544-3427** : Who is this?_

It took everything in Emma not to respond sarcastically. 

_**Emma** : Emma._

_**207-544-3427** : Emma who?_

_**Emma** : Uh, no. Who are you? How do you have my number?_

_**207-544-3427** : It was in a list of phone numbers I have. But there was no name beside it._

_**Emma** : I don’t know anyone that has my number and doesn’t know it’s my number. I don’t think. It’s my personal line, not my work line. How did you get it?_

_**207-544-3427** : It was just written down on my phone list._

The creepy hairs on the back of Emma’s neck were going crazy. Probably this weirdo Killian or something.

_**Emma** : Killian, is this you? You really need to leave me alone, guy. Last warning._

_**207-544-3427** : Killian? Um, no. Not Killian. Well, I don’t know an Emma, so maybe I copied someone else’s number down wrong?_

Emma blew out a breath of relief. The simple explanations were usually right.

_**Emma** : Yeah, probably. Well, what’s your name, anyway? Maybe we do have some sort of connection._

_**207-544-3427** : Regina._

And that’s when Emma dropped her phone.


End file.
